


wE ARe a GoOd TeAM

by yeah_no_sorry



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Finally, Galra Angst, Getting Together, I can't believe i wrote this in 2020, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mutual Pining, Night Terrors, POV Alternating, Plot, Sex Pollen, Slow Burn, feeling nostalgic i guess, feelings pollen, minus the sex, tbh, that sweet sweet slow burn, this entire fic is so irrelevant, you know i love a good plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24637021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeah_no_sorry/pseuds/yeah_no_sorry
Summary: “Goodnight,” Lance says to Keith, feeling a surge of affection for him. “Sleep tight.” Keith rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh at the childish phrase. He steps inside.“Don’t let the space bugs bite!” Lance calls to Keith. He sees the shadow of a smirk as the door slides closed.Lance grins to himself, remaining at Keith’s door for a moment too long, before he heads back to his own room. He falls asleep quickly. This time, his dreams are full of rolling ocean waves, big blue skies, warm hands. A pair of pretty, dark eyes, opened wide, like the ocean ready to swallow him up.blahblah blah they're gay. *spoiler alert* for each other
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Kudos: 19





	wE ARe a GoOd TeAM

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a bunch of my favorite klance fic cliches strung together. tbh i kinda just wrote this as therapy to get over some writer's block or something  
> I'm not sure when exactly this is set in the series. Like I guess kinda season 2ish.

A hot wind scorches through the desert, and Keith scrunches up his eyes against the swirling sands. He thinks he sees someone in the distance. A tall, loping figure. Something about them seems familiar, but a wary feeling unsettles him when he takes a step closer.

“Who are you?” he screams, sand blurring his vision, threatening to burn his lungs.

He hears something then, like a rumble.

 _Earthquake_ , he thinks, before he’s suddenly engulfed in what sounds like a deep, chilling laugh. It’s everywhere. In the air, in his ears. The figure approaches, its face flickering. It stands over Keith and he glares defiantly at it, until -

“Dad?” The figure has his dad’s face, smiling kindly down. It begins to say something, but suddenly balks with terror, making Keith gasp and stumble backwards. The figure starts to grow purple fur and steps forward, flickering into the face of Zarkon, and then-

-

Keith wakes with a pounding headache, and a louder pounding at his door.

“What?” he growls.

The door slides open and Lance is there, frowning. “Uh, yeah, _so_ sorry to interrupt your much-needed beauty sleep, Mullet, but Coran wants us for something.”

Keith jumps to his feet in a second. “What, like, a mission? Is the castle in danger?” He’s wired from that strange nightmare, already tense and sweating.

Lance raises an eyebrow, then rolls his eyes. “Chill out, man, it’s just some lame herb-gathering, recon thing. I think. I wasn’t really listening.”

Keith glares, following Lance out the door. “Take this seriously. We’re soldiers in this war. We could die at any moment.”

“And hey! That’s Keith, everybody, the universe’s biggest buzzkill!” Lance gestures to an invisible crowd and Keith feels his headache start to throb faster. He rolls his eyes and drags a hand down his face.

“You look terrible, by the way,” Lance says, swinging around and peering at Keith suspiciously. “Are you okay?”

Keith starts, his heart rate picking up as Lance pushes into his space, their noses inches apart. He clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m uh...I’m okay. Just had a bad dream.”

“Oh,” Lance backs down, looking thoughtful. “That sucks. I get nightmares here, too. All the time. If you ever uh, wanna like, talk about it-”

Keith has no time to be taken aback by Lance’s kindness, because Coran hurriedly interrupts as they step into the bridge.

“Boys, you’re here. Good. I need you to do some quick reconnaissance work down on this abandoned planet. Just to check for any signs of Galra occupation, or a rebel movement, In which case we can team up. I would also like you to retrieve this flower for me.”

Lance side-eyes Keith and smirks, as if to say, “I told you so.” Keith raises an eyebrow in return, but can’t help the amusement in his eyes as Coran brings up a holographic projection of a red flower. Its petals curl inwards and silver tendrils hang from its center. There’s something almost bewitching about the flower, and Keith struggles to focus on Coran’s words as he studies the image.

“This flower has special properties. In nature it amplifies people's emotions when its pollen is released in the air. But I want to use it to make a truth serum, so we can humanely and effectively interrogate future Galra prisoners, like Sendak,” Coran says. “It shouldn’t be a difficult mission, so I’m just sending you two. Pidge and Hunk are working on some castle repairs, and Shiro and Allura are writing up some training schedules at the moment. But I have them on standby should you need backup.”

“We can handle it,” Keith says, feeling confident.

Lance hesitates. “Sooo what’s the deal with the whole emotion amplifying thing though? Like will it make Keith and me beat each other up or what?”

Coran laughs. “Oh, the effects are quite mild, and it only lasts while you’re directly in contact with the plant. Just try to remain in control and everything should be all right.”

“Alright,” Lance says. He turns and sticks his tongue out at Keith, saying, “Last one to touch down cleans out the goo machines for a week!” before immediately turning tail and running out the door.

Keith groans in frustration. “Ugh, Lance!”

\---

Lance hates to admit it, but he gets a certain thrill, speeding down in Blue, neck and neck with Red. With Keith.

“What’s the matter, Keith? Scared of a little friendly competition?” he shouts.

“I’m not scared!” Keith growls back. Lance frowns at his controls as he feels Keith gaining, and pushes some more weight into his movement.

“Come on, Blue,” he grits out, determined not to lose. But Keith continues to pick up speed as they plummet towards the planet, and Lance feels the familiar frustration, humiliation, and rage churn in his gut as they break through the atmosphere. Keith lands roughly, scrambling for purchase on the planet’s surface, but Lance crashes into the ground, rolling a little with Blue. He groans as they finally settle.

“Sorry Blue,” Lance says, devastated. His hatch pops open and Keith is standing there.

“Lance, are you okay? That landing looked rough,” he smirks.

“I’m fine,” Lance snaps, shouldering past Keith and out into the open. “I get it. You won, _and_ you stuck a great landing.” Something spiteful and pained twists in his stomach as he spits the harsh words out. “Red’s just built better for speed. She’s compact and light. Blue’s bigger and chunkier.”

Keith scowls. “Whatever, Lance. Say whatever you need to make yourself feel better.” He hunches his shoulders and stalks five steps ahead of Lance, leading the way through the tall grasses of this planet.

Something nagging in his stomach just won’t let Lance drop it, and he says, “Hey! It’s the truth and you know it. You’re so cocky, always trying to make yourself look better than me.”

Keith swivels around, purple fire in his eyes. “Are you serious? That is literally all you ever do around me. I don’t understand why it’s so hard to get along here. We’re both good pilots.”

Lance is too indignant to recognize that Keith just called him a good pilot, and sticks his finger into Keith’s chest. “Yeah, but no one’s as good as you Mr. Prodigy, are they?”

“Maybe it’s just _you_ who’s not!” Keith shouts, his scowl deep, lines of fury etched in his face.

That does it for Lance. He rams into Keith, knocking the wind out of him and taking him by surprise. The two boys writhe angrily in the dirt, until Keith responds, gripping Lance’s wrists and flipping him over on the ground so his cheek is in the dirt. But Lance kicks out from this awkward position and pushes Keith’s feet from under him. He rolls out of Keith’s grip and punches the other boy in the side right as Keith’s flailing fist connects with Lance’s face. Lance falls back, jaw aching. He and Keith eye each other, gaze on fire, breathing hard. Lance jumps and Keith meets him midair. They tussle, until Keith starts to bowl Lance over with his own weight. Lance twists out of his grip, grabs Keith by the forearm and pins him down, straddling his hips, hands hard on his wrists. He stares down at Keith, cuffed to the ground, his vision red, fire still burning in his stomach.

There’s something else there, too: a tugging, irresistible feeling in his gut as he starts to catch his breath, staring down at Keith. The other boy glares up at him, but his expression slowly settles into something like confusion, or surprise. Lance feels his heartbeat roaring in his ears as he watches the sweat drip down Keith’s temple in slow motion. He swallows languidly, and Lance's gaze follows the bob of his Adam’s apple. Keith gets up on his elbows, his face coming closer, licks his lips. They’re pink, chewed raw, and Lance jerks his eyes back up to Keith’s when he realizes he was looking at them. A hot rush prickles through his skin and his whole world zeroes in on Keith’s eyes, bright and intense, staring him down, bare centimeters apart. His hand comes up to the back of Lance’s neck and for one wild moment, Lance wonders if they’re about to kiss. But then -

“Look out!” Keith yanks violently and shoves Lance down to earth, lunging up to stand protectively over him. Lance looks up in a daze to see a Galra robot approaching, about to shoot Keith in a blaze of light. Keith leaps forward and disembowels the robot with his bayard, but suddenly jumps back in pain. Lance gasps and scrambles to his feet an instant. Anger courses through his veins like dry ice, and he holds Keith upright.

“I’m okay,” Keith says. “Barely grazed me.”

“Okay, but you’re still injured. I’m thinking we should dip and tell Coran there are Galra occupying the planet.”

“I guess,” Keith says. “But wait. Look.” He points at the crushed grass where they had just fought. The flowers are much smaller than Lance expected. Tiny little red blooms, like a ground carpet under all the tall grass.

“Ohhh,’ Lance says, suddenly feeling deeply ashamed for having given into his irrational anger. “Let’s just grab these and head back then, shall we?”

“No,” Keith replies, jaw set. He’s bent over in pain, his teeth grit in concentration. “We have to finish the mission.”

Lance hates Keith like this. All fierce and strong and determined. He can’t shake the anxiety that he feels as he watches Keith bend to grab the flowers, wheezing a little.

“Keith, you’re hurt. Now is not the time to be a hero. Get over into Blue right now. I’ll get the flowers.”

“But recon,” argued Keith. “If the Galra are here, there must be a surviving alien race. Or something.”

“Then we’ll get Coran to scan the planet for life forms. Now, get. In. My lion.”

But Keith refuses, tugging at the little red flowers in the ground. Lance huffs, and joins him in the grass. All his white-hot anger from before is gone, now replaced with a deep, harrowing concern as he watches Keith struggle to pluck the flowers without doubling over in pain. Once they have some solid armfuls, they toss the flowers into Blue, and Keith stands to trudge through the grass again, lopsided and stilted.

Lance runs to catch up, supporting Keith’s injured side. If the idiot won’t stop, then at least Lance has to be there to make sure he doesn’t kill himself.

Watching the fire in Keith’s gaze, his refusal to give up, annoys Lance to no end. He just wants to get him back to safety. But of course Keith would never let this go.  
The tugging feeling is back in Lance's gut, stronger and breathtaking. A pang squeezes his heart.

\---

They reach the crest of a hill, and Keith peers over the edge, feeling a sharp, burning pain in his side. He hears Lance gasp next to him. Down below, they see Galra soldiers and robots armed heavily with guns, circling some kind of building. It’s white, and low to the ground, and the soldiers are marching around it, gathering weapons, and giving orders. Keith narrows his eyes, noticing some soldiers climb up out of what looks like a pothole in the ground.

“They’re going underground,” Lance says, beside him. “What are they doing in there?”

“I don’t know,” Keith mumbles, feeling barely coherent through his haze of pain.

“That building doesn’t really look like your typical Galra fortress does it?” Lance asks, nodding at the low, white formation. Keith agrees. It’s too pretty, too elegant to mimic the cruel, raw power of the Galran spacecrafts.

“Must've been built by whoever _really_ lives here,” he says. “Let’s go,” he draws his bayard, sweat breaking out on his brow.

“Whoa there, buddy,” Lance says, grabbing Keith’s arm. “That’s enough for today. You and I cannot take those guys. You’re injured. I’m tired. We need backup. And a plan. Let’s fly back, get you in a healing pod, and attack tomorrow. We did our mission. Now let’s get out of here, before something even worse happens.” He has a point.

“Fine,” Keith says.

Lance looks relieved, and stands to support Keith’s weight. They walk back slowly, Keith stumbling as they go. He hates this. Feeling useless. Needing Lance. He thinks maybe the flowers at their feet make him feel even more determined than usual, more ashamed when he has to depend on Lance to walk.

He eyes Lance, who trudges along, serious and silent for once in his life. Their fight had been...intense, Keith thinks, and probably inevitable, but Keith can’t shake the weird feeling that had passed between them, right before he spotted the Galra robot. In those moments, his emotions became so charged and intense, he hadn’t felt like himself. He was angry and hurt, frustrated with Lance and their inability to get along. But his heart just wasn’t in it. Not really.

Even though Lance is infuriating, Keith finds himself so drawn to him. His energy, his laugh, his arrogant smirk and stupid jokes. Lance is the only person who has ever challenged him without hesitation, ready to be shot down at any moment. Keith has spent so much of his life burning bright and intense, working to get what he wants, but he is paralyzed with fear at the thought of making a mistake, never allowing himself to fall and see if anyone would reach out to help him. He thinks, despite their weird, unnecessary rivalry, that Lance would. Sure, they fight, but he always pulls through when it counts, and Keith likes that about Lance. He actually just...likes Lance.

And that’s what disturbs him about the whole encounter. Once Lance had him pinned down, the fight went out of Keith, and he could only stare up in shock. Until he pinpointed the Galra’s aim behind Lance, and suddenly every fiber of his body was engulfed in this burning, electrifying need to protect him. In that moment, it had felt like Keith was willing to do anything to keep Lance safe, would even jump in front of the blast himself, and that...that was scary. It sent a chill through Keith.

He’s never had to stick around anyone long enough to start to care about them. That attachment feels like weakness. He fears it will be his downfall in this war.

-

Safely back in the ship, Keith lies awake on his bed, unable to sleep. Everything had worked out smoothly. He and Lance got their lions back to the castle, and Coran had stuck him in a healing pod for an hour. Keith feels fine, fully healed and free of pain, but the adrenaline of the day just won’t go away. He sits up, pulling out the knife his father had given him all those years ago. The blade had always provided him a strange sense of comfort, it being the only thing of his father’s he has left. But now, it’s become a source of confusion, of sleepless nights. Could he really be part Galra? Had his father known a Galra back on earth? He shakes his head and stands, unwilling to dwell on it even more. Maybe a snack or a drink would make him feel better.

\---

Lance shoots up, gasping for breath in the middle of the night. He shudders, recalling a dream about purple, clawed hands, menacing sharp teeth, and piercing yellow eyes.

 _I can’t even get a break from all this Galra stuff in my dreams_ , he thinks to himself, outraged, wiggling to get comfortable in his warm cocoon of blankets. His eyes jerk open once more when his stomach gives out a loud and uproarious grumble, shaking him from the sleepiness that had just begun to claim him again. He groans, tosses the covers off and stretches luxuriously, padding towards the door and out to the kitchen for a late night snack.

The kitchen door slides open, and Lance jumps in surprise when he realizes he is not alone. Keith Kogane, genius pilot extraordinaire, is moping at the counter, sipping a juice pouch and staring intently at what looks like a knife in his hands.

Lance is relieved to see him alive after their “recon mission” and clears his throat, raising a wavering hand. “Yo, hey Mullet. How are you feeling since you got out of the healing pod?”

Keith looks up, eyes still lost in concentration, but then his gaze settles properly on Lance. He looks confused for a moment, his pretty, dark eyes wide, before he registers Lance’s question and nods. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. I feel good actually.”

“Cool cool,” Lance says.

He’s grateful for today, of course. But there’s a weird tension between them after their fight. Lance is ashamed that he let his temper distract them from their mission, let Keith get hurt. But he can’t find it within him to say it out loud. Lance knows that the whole point of being on a team is to protect each other, and today Keith had his back. But it’s hard, he thinks, to admit that. Especially when he remembers Keith’s smug little grin and his arrogant tone when he saves his life, pulls off some super cool, amazing pilot swerve or fighting move and then everybody’s suddenly on their knees, crying his praises and begging him to father their children.

He grabs some food, unsure of whether or not he should bring up the fight.

“So...um, Lance,” Keith’s voice drifts over to him and Lance almost drops his bowl of food goo in surprise. “I’m sorry. About today. I lost my temper.”

“No,” Lance says. “It was me! I should be apologizing. I’m sorry. I messed everything up and you got hurt.”

“I was too harsh,” Keith says. “But I guess it kind of was your fault.”

“Yeahh, pretty much. And, thanks, by the way, for having my back. With the Galra robot,” Lance adds.

“Sure. I mean, of course. I...I’ll always have your back. We’re a team,” Keith responds, smiling uncertainly. Something warm tingles in Lance’s stomach at the sight of a genuine smile on Keith, however uncertain.

“Yeah. A team,” he echoes, smiling back. They are quiet for a moment. Keith looks tired. Bags under his eyes, hair sticking up in different directions. Lance wonders at the last time he had a good night’s sleep.

He starts to walk back to his room, but turns back to Keith as the kitchen door slides open. “C’mon. Aren’t you coming to bed?” He doesn’t bother to address the subtle suggestiveness of the question, although he feels the tips of his ears heat up, a little thrill run through him at the ridiculousness of asking _Keith_ to _bed_.

“Oh. Yeah,” Keith says, stiffly following Lance out the door. They walk through the halls in silence, arms brushing occasionally, the quiet enveloping them as their footsteps sound on the metal floors. They reach Keith’s room.

“Goodnight,” Lance says to Keith, feeling a surge of affection for him. “Sleep tight.” Keith rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh at the childish phrase. He steps inside.

“Don’t let the space bugs bite!” Lance calls to Keith. He sees the shadow of a smirk as the door slides closed.

Lance grins to himself, remaining at Keith’s door for a moment too long, before he heads back to his own room. He falls asleep quickly. This time, his dreams are full of rolling ocean waves, big blue skies, warm hands. A pair of pretty, dark eyes, opened wide, like the ocean ready to swallow him up.

\---

“Initiate training sequence!” Keith announces, and a robot materializes before him, slashing at him as he charges its left side. He blocks its throws, hooking its foot before it clatters to the ground and he points his bayard to its chest. _Too easy_ , he thinks. He backs up, wipes his brow. He’s so deep in concentration that he barely registers when the castle alarm begins blaring relentlessly. The robot dematerializes in response and Keith looks up, concerned. He runs to the bridge, bayard in hand.

“What’s going on!” he shouts as he steps into the control room, weapon ready, charged to attack. Shiro also stands at the ready, fists balled. Pidge and Hunk show matching looks of concern, shoulders tense. Only Lance looks completely relaxed, yawning and scratching at something inside his ear. Coran quiets them.

“No, no, everybody relax. I just wanted to assemble you all here. Yesterday, Keith and Lance went to observe this planet down here, and found that it’s occupied by Galra forces. I’ve done a little more research and some life scans down below and I found that the planet is called Jylthrax. It’s been taken over by the Galra, but we think the Jylthraxians would make valuable allies.”

“So...what’s the plan?” Pidge asks. “We hit them at their base, take out the primary general, and liberate the people? Easy.”

“Well, yes, that is part of it,” Coran says, “but the Galra base at this planet also serves as a giant underground prison for members of the Jylthraxian resistance. Not only do we want to capture the Galra general, we also need to free the prisoners.”

The team nods. Keith grips his bayard, impatient to start.

“Alright," Coran prompts, "We’ll split into groups. Allura, Shiro, and Keith, you will go after the Galra general. He would be located here, at the center of the prison. Lance, Pidge, and Hunk, you’ll be responsible for blowing up the side of the building, here, and evacuating the prisoners safely. Does that sound-”

He’s interrupted by a loud groan from Lance. Keith frowns. Is he seriously going to start complaining right now?

“Boooring,” Lance whines. “I want to take down a scary Galra general. You got three close range fighters on your hand. You’re gonna need my help.”

“Lance we’re all doing our part to help these people,” Keith grits out through his teeth. “Do you have to make this about you?”

Lance turns to Keith with a frown, a retort on his lips, but Allura interrupts him.

“Actually, Lance has a point,” she interjects. “Perhaps it would be more valuable to pair the long and close range fighters.”

Coran nods. “And I forgot one very important part of this mission. The Jylthraxians have a princess, who acts as the diplomatic and strategic general of the resistance. Their highness is kept under the highest security in the prison, and I need you two,” he says, pointing to Lance and Keith, “to rescue them.”

“A princess rescue? I like the sound of that,” Lance smirks. “But do I have to go with Keith again? He’ll steal all the glory.”

Keith glares. “It’s not about that," he snaps. "We’re trying to save lives, Lance.”

Lance glares back. “Oh yeah? Well how about we start with saving _my_ life by pairing me with someone else?” The two stare daggers at each other, unrelenting. A rush of heat sweeps through Keith’s body. How was this the same Lance from last night, who had gently thanked him for having his back and wished him good night outside his bedroom door?

“For once we can agree. Put me with anyone else,” Keith says, feeling a sense of triumph when Lance’s scowl burns into him.

“No can do,” says Coran. “Ready your pods.”

\---

Lance grumbles in their pod on the way down to Jylthrax. He grumbles as they touch down on Jylthrax. He grumbles as Keith sets a detonator on the ground that breaks them into the Jylthrax prison tunnel systems. He stops grumbling when a Galra soldier shoots a laser that misses him by about two inches.

Lance yelps and makes quick work of the soldier, crashing the side of his bayard into his head and knocking him unconscious. The Galra slumps to the side, but their brawl draws the sound of metallic footsteps, no doubt some curious soldiers from far down the hallway.

“Oh, great,” Keith growls, readying himself to fight off the robots from both sides.

“Wait!” Lance says, noticing the glint of a silver key ring at the Galra soldier’s waist. He grabs the ring and fumbles with it at the doorway to the cell closest to them.

“What are you doing?” Keith hisses, eyebrows creased in confusion.

“We’re going to hide in here,” Lance says as one key finally clicks and the metal door swings open. He grabs the unconscious Galra and shoves him into the cell, yanking Keith in by the arm with his free hand. The three tumble into the darkness and Lance nudges the cell door, closing it to the tunnel outside, but not allowing the lock to click back into place. He peeks through a little slot in the door (presumably used for meals) and watches as two Galra soldiers come to the door to investigate.

Keith looks under the crack in the door.

“Did you hear that?” one Galra says gruffly to the other.

“Yeah. Just the prisoners acting out again,” the other says. He begins to peer into the door and Lance quickly ducks down, away from the opening. He feels his heart beat in his throat and grips his gun tightly, his hands slippery through his gloves.

“Quiet in there!” the Galra shouts and starts to thump away. The second soldier remains at the door for longer, still looking suspicious. He takes out his own key ring and surveys the cell while Keith and Lance exchange terrified glances. Finally, the soldier puts his key ring in the lock and turns, confused when he hears no click.

Immediately, in a flash that has Lance dizzy, Keith opens the cell door, grabs the soldier, and knocks him unconscious on the floor beside them.

“Oh. Uh...that works,” Lance says.

“Let’s go,” Keith says, but they are interrupted by a noise at the back of the cell. Lance’s eyes haven’t quite adjusted to the dark, but when he strains them he can see the outline of some sort of white figure.

“Hi,” he says. “Are you a Jylthraxian rebel? We’re here to rescue all you guys and set the princess free.”

The figure comes forward, swathed in the typical brown Galra prisoner garb. They are a cream color, shaped a bit like a pear with tall, skinny antennae and big, blue eyes.

“I suppose I am a rebel, of sorts. I’m the princess’ top general, bodyguard, and personal servant,” the Jylthraxian says. “Who are you?”

“We’re paladins of Voltron,” Keith answers before Lance can. “We’re here to help you by freeing your planet of Galra rule. Do you know where the princess might be?”

“I know this prison well. I used to oversee it before the Galra came and trapped me within my own walls,” the Jylthraxian answers. “I watched you deceive and attack those Galra soldiers, so perhaps there is truth behind what you say. I could take you to where the princess is being held, but how do I know I can trust you?”

“How do we know we can trust _you_?” Keith shoots back, but Lance silences him.

“You can’t know for sure,” Lance says to the Jylthraxian, gaining a questioning and accusatory look from Keith. “What I mean is, you can’t know for sure, but what’s the worst that could happen from helping us? You end up in jail again?”

The Jylthraxian pauses. “Very well. You make a good point. My name is Khana.”

\---

Keith remains suspicious of _Khana_ , the so-called top general of Jylthrax, but the route that they follow through the tunnels brings them closer and closer to the point that Coran had pointed out as the princess’ cell on the map, so maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea to follow the weird alien guy. Besides, Keith thinks, if they did get betrayed, he’d be ready, and he and Lance could take this tiny egg-shaped alien no problem.

He really is amazed at how well he and Lance fight together as they sneak through the labyrinthian corridors, attacking soldiers and robots that catch notice of them or threaten their passage through the halls. With Lance covering Keith with his gun, he feels safe going in for close combat, and the two make quick work of multiple soldiers in seconds. There’s a certain thrill that he gets from it - the fast-paced, blood-boiling action, the rush of victory, and then the satisfied warmth that fills his stomach and face when Lance shoots him a triumphant grin.

“We’re getting closer, paladins,” Khana says as they round a corner. “There will be high levels of security up ahead. Be on your guard.”

They stop at a corner and peer around it, seeing a corridor filled with soldiers and robot minions.

“Ok,” Lance says, “I’ll jump out and distract them, then you and Khana go around and launch a surprise attack from the other side of the corridor. I got your back.”

A tingle of warmth runs up Keith’s spine at those words and he responds, “Okay, got it.” He pauses, breathes, readies himself for the attack then says, “We’re a team, right?”

“A team,” Lance nods, and Khana wiggles their antennae in agreement.

Khana leads Keith to the other end of the corridor and they wait until Lance leaps out from the corner and taunts the soldiers, shooting into their ranks and knocking down robots. Keith jumps out from his corner while they’re distracted, slashing and attacking the many soldiers. Khana is beside him, wielding a laser gun won off of a previous fight with a robot. Keith hears blasts from Lance’s gun and hears a soldier go down near him. He fights in a blur, forgetting his surroundings and allowing his bayard to think for him, slicing through the air in graceful arcs. A strangled shout interrupts his thoughts.

“Keith!” he hears Lance’s voice shout and suddenly the other boy is right beside him. Keith turns in confusion, striking down his current opponent, and his eyes widen in shock as Lance crashes into him in a blast of white light. Keith blinks his eyes, momentarily stunned, the soldiers around him blurring in and out of his vision, the air around him thick with heat. Lance’s hair brushes against his chin, and Keith looks down, his stomach lurching when he sees his armor - stained red, and slick with blood and sweat. He grunts, moves to get up, but he feels like he’s moving through molasses, his body fighting every urge of his to get back up and keep fighting. An arm flashes into his vision, grips his bicep, and pulls him to his feet. It’s Khana, who’s now fending off the last few soldiers on their own. Keith stares down at Lance, burnt and bloodied on the floor, a pang of guilt running through him when he realizes Lance took a hit for him. His blood boils up under his skin at the thought, and he makes quick work of the last few robots with his bayard. They fall, still crackling with electricity around him. Keith moves towards Lance, hefts him over his shoulder, and the boy grunts softly. This is bad. Really bad. Way worse than the light graze of a shot Keith had taken yesterday.

“Looks like I had your back that time, samurai,” Lance says, every syllable sounding pained and breathless.

“Don’t talk,” Keith says. He turns to Khana, panic swelling as Lance’s blood trickles down between his fingers. “I’m turning back. How do I get out?”

“We don’t turn back until their majesty Kholeni is rescued!” Khana shouts back, running up the corridor.

“I don’t care about that,” Keith mutters angrily. “Show me the way out!”

But Khana skitters out of sight as they round the corner. Keith grits his teeth, gingerly adjusting Lance's weight on his shoulder as he takes a step after the flighty alien.

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispers, his voice cracking. “I’m going to get you out of here.” He catches up with Khana a little further down the hallway. A growl starts in the back of his throat, “Lance is hurt. He freed you, so you owe him-”

“This one!” Khana turns the key in the lock of a grand holding cell, and rushes inside. “Your majesty, Princess Kholeni! We’ve come to your rescue!”

The princess looks up from where they sit in the cell. They are pear shaped, like Khana, with lilac skin, the same antennae, and glowing golden eyes. They stand, suspicion in their gaze, but cry out when they recognize the loyal general.

“Khana! How did you get here?”

“These two helped me escape. They are freeing the rest of the prisoners and taking the base back from the Galra.”

The princess looks at Keith, who inclines his head with difficulty, given that Lance is currently draped over him like a sack of potatoes. Keith grimaces and shifts his weight, earning a tiny whimper from Lance. He grits his teeth, muscles burning, and moves so that he can cradle Lance on the floor. He scans his body for signs of the injury but all he can see is blood. Blood everywhere, sticky and slippery and sharp in his nose. He’s afraid of how close Lance teeters to the edge of death, of how his whole fate could be up to Keith in these moments. He tightens his grip on the boy, a horrible icy hollowness gripping his stomach at the image of Lance, cold and unmoving, no playful smile on those lips, no sparkle in his eyes or energy in his unwieldy arms.

“Thank you,” the princess says, with sincerity. “My name is Kholeni. Your friend...he is hurt?”

“Yes,” Keith growls. He instantly regrets the bite in his tone, but he’s too anxious to have much control over anything. The princess seems to understand, steps closer, and Keith reflexively pulls back when they move their antennae towards Lance.

“Let them,” says Khana. “The princess has healing powers passed down for generations in the royal bloodline.”

The princess steps forward again, their antennae roving over Lance’s body to locate the wound. They settle near his stomach and glow bright blue in the dim light of the holding cell. Lance’s hold on Keith tightens, and he shifts forward, his face falling into the crook of Keith’s neck. Keith’s breath catches when Lance’s nose grazes his skin, shivers where he feels those long eyelashes flutter against his neck. Lance sighs gustily as the light dies down and lifts his head groggily.

“Whoa,” he says. “Thank you princess!” He’s still low energy and clutches to Keith for support, but Keith feels the crash of relief when he sees Lance is no longer in critical danger.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “Thank you.” He hopes it sounds as sincere as he feels, for he's almost trembling with relief at seeing Lance’s tired smile again.

Keith’s comm blinks to life and Pidge’s voice crackles in the air. “Keith! Lance! We’ve been trying to reach you. Is everything okay?” Keith realizes dazedly that he and Lance had lost their helmets in the scramble.

“We’re okay,” he answers. “We found the princess. Can we meet you somewhere?”

“We’re by the east entrance with the rest of the prisoners,” Pidge says. “Looks like we’re done here.”

The four of them make it through the rest of the prison easily, and they meet up with Pidge and Hunk outside. Overall, the operation had gone smoothly, with Lance’s injury being the only major hit the team had taken.

Once rallied together again, Coran frets over Lance’s wounds as Allura shares words with Kholeni. The princess insists that they stay. Allura, exhausted from the battle, gladly accepts their invitation.

\---

Lance sits on the windowsill of the huge, swanky room that Princess Kholeni had given him. The room is lit with crystalline lamps, and there’s a large, round window in the wall to peer out at the stars. Even the fluffy, alien carpet and his soft, blue bedspread glimmer with some kind of light.

He finds that he can’t sleep, no matter how plush his set up. Every time he tries to lie down to rest, his mind begins recounting the battle earlier, the flash of light, the searing pain, and the gentle concern with which Keith had handled him. The fear and determination in Keith’s gruff tone, the strength in his arms and the muscles of his side that pressed into Lance as he supported him. Even the proximity of Keith’s skin, his hot, exposed neck, had enveloped Lance in a feeling of security that he hadn’t expected to experience while bleeding out from a laser gun wound in his stomach. If Lance is being honest with himself, he’s very thankful and impressed with the way Keith had dealt with the whole situation. As annoying as he could be, he certainly knew how to handle himself in times of conflict, Lance thinks somewhat bitterly.

He stands up from the window to try and sleep again. Lying down on his back, he lets out a frustrated groan as the image of Keith and his set jaw and big, purple eyes flashes back into his vision. He rolls over and winces with pain, feeling a phantom jab where he had been shot.

Perhaps he should say thank you to Keith, he thinks. He can’t sleep with this debt weighing on his shoulders. That’s it.

“No that’s so weird. He’s probably asleep,” Lance mutters into the pillow, just as a quiet knock comes on the door.

“Come in,” Lance yells over his shoulder, not bothering to lift his head from the pillow. The door slides open and there in the doorway is...Keith?

Lance shoots straight up. “Uh, hello? What’s going on?”

Keith stands bashfully in the doorway, rubbing his arm and peering through the dark of Lance’s room.

“Dude, come in,” Lance says again. He’s squinting against the light that floods his room from the hallway. Keith steps carefully into the room, delicately picking his way around the clothes that Lance had tossed on the floor earlier.

“Hey,” Keith finally says, gently but begrudgingly. He sits down on the edge of Lance’s bed, and Lance gets some twisted sense of deja vu, as though this had all happened once in a dream. “I just - wanted to check in and see how you’re feeling,” Keith offers, his eyes shifting around the room. “You took that shot for me, and I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about - all the... blood,” he finishes lamely, sighing and turning to finally look Lance in the eye. His eyebrows are drawn together tightly. His gaze is heavy in the dark.

Lance stares. He clears his throat. “No that’s - yeah, that makes sense. Thanks for coming to uh, check in. I’m doing good, though.” He scoots a little closer to Keith, half expecting him to move away. He doesn’t, but something flickers in his gaze, and he tenses minutely.

“Uhh.” Lance pauses, unsure what to say. “Pretty crazy that we saved a princess today, huh? A pretty cute one, too.”

Keith groans and rolls his eyes. “Ugh, Lance, these aliens look like oversized egg people and you still manage to find them attractive?”

“What’s not to attract?” Lance huffs in feigned indignation. But it’s too hard to keep a straight face with Keith scowling at him like that, and he breaks out into a laugh, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders that he hadn’t realized was there.

Keith stares at him for a second, eyes wide, before giving Lance a half-hearted grin. The two boys giggle in the dark, hunched next to each other on the bed. Lance feels lighter, a little less broken after being shot earlier that day. Until he laughs too hard and feels a sharp pang of pain. He winces, bending over and pressing his hand to the spot where he had been shot.

Keith notices this and pushes Lance’s hand away to inspect the wound himself. Lance gasps at the iciness of Keith’s hands, as they slide his shirt up and ghost over his skin. Lance shivers, feeling his chest flutter and his skin crackle with energy wherever Keith’s skin grazes his. He takes a shaky breath as Keith inspects the gunshot. What should have been a fatal wound is now a tender pink circle on his stomach. Keith probes gently at it, prompting a pained wheeze from Lance. Keith immediately retracts his hands, eyebrows creased with worry. He fidgets with his hands, gaze askance. “Lance, I’m so sorry. This is my fault.”

“No, I-I wasn’t thinking okay? I just saw you in trouble and there was like, one second to decide what to do, and it...just kind of happened. Ya know?” Lance knows he could’ve died, but he’d thought about it enough for today, and came to the decision that he'd rather not think about it anymore. So, he reaches forward to take Keith’s hand. A distraction.

“Geez, you ever heard of a hand warmer, bro? Your circulation is terrible,” Lance comments, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. He starts rubbing little circles into the other boy’s hand to try and get the blood flowing. Lance knows that holding hands with Keith is probably not the most typical behavior between rivals, and yet...he almost died today, maybe he can allow himself a bit of a break. For some reason, it’s nice to touch another human being, to feel the presence of someone else with a beating heart and blood flowing through his veins. Although Keith’s icy cold hands seem to be devoid of any blood flow whatsoever, Lance thinks, now wrapping his hands around Keith’s to try and trap some heat within.

Keith clears his throat, and Lance looks up at him, suddenly awoken from his intense concentration as a human hand warmer. Keith is staring, and Lance can’t really see his expression in the dark, but he feels a wave of embarrassment as he realizes how strange this would seem under normal circumstances. He pulls his hands back, a tingle climbing up his spine and settling as a hot flush in his face. He opens his mouth to try and explain himself, “Uh. I’m so sorry. I should’ve like asked or something, I-”

“No, um. It’s fine,” Keith says, jaw set, not meeting Lance’s gaze. His hands drift forward slowly. “Actually, it’s kind of nice.”

“Ok. Coool,” Lance says, reaching forward to grasp Keith’s hands again before he can change his mind. His hands close around Keith’s, and they are just as cold as before. For a moment, they sit in silence, clasping hands. Lance hears his breath pounding in his ears.

After a long pause, Keith speaks, “I know you just followed your instincts out there today, but there’s no difference in you or me having taken that shot.” He almost whispers it, like he’s afraid to break the spell, the heavy feeling that hangs over them in the room. “We may be defenders of the universe, but...is it really worth your life?”

Lance shrugs. “Maybe. I mean, at the end of the day, I’m expendable. You’re not.” It hurts to admit it out loud, but Lance feels the truth in his words in the way they make his throat ache to say them. He stares down at their hands intertwined, vision blurring, eyes stinging. How did they even get here? A prodigy fighter and a cargo pilot, once leagues apart on earth, now sitting together in the same bed way up in outer space. He drops their hands, feeling a prickle of annoyance when Keith’s gaze snaps up to look at him. Flinching under the scrutiny, Lance scoots back in his bed, resting his head on his pillow and pulling the covers up around him.

Keith follows. “How could you say that? You’re not expendable! You’re- you’re always making people laugh and boosting morale and bringing us together. I wish I could talk to people the way you do.”

Lance laughs bitterly. “Yep, that’s me. Talker, extraordinaire. You can’t exactly use that to defeat an army of Galra soldiers.”

“But you can fight too! And fly, and cheer everyone up and that’s what makes you important. We’d be lost without you, Lance. _I’d_ be lost without you.” Lance starts, taken aback at the honesty of the words, and the rawness of Keith’s confession. “You might be my closest friend on the team,” Keith mutters, almost to himself.

“Wait, what? What about Shiro? Or, I don’t know, Hunk?” Lance asks in astonishment. They’re rivals, arch nemeses, each other’s stiffest competitors. Had they become that close while Lance was busy finding out the best ways to overcome his greatest adversary, Keith Kogane?

“Shiro’s my teacher. He helped me through some stuff and took care of me, but he’s like, my mentor. Like family. And Hunk is really nice and funny, but we don’t talk. Not...like this.” Keith motions to Lance and gives a half-hearted smile.

“Buddy, this is the most we’ve talked in maybe ever,” Lance says. _Keith must be lonely_ , he thinks. _If I’m his best friend. But that just means I have to be a good one_.

“Yeah, and it’s uh...nice. Right? I’m kind of rusty, I guess. I didn’t really socialize much, living in a shack in the desert, ya know?”

“Yeah. I know,” Lance says. “So...what exactly did you get up to in that lil’ ol’ shack in the desert then?”

“A whole lot of nothing. I practiced a lot of hand to hand combat. Took a lot of rides around the desert. It was a long time to be alone.”

“Well, I have all night,” Lance offers, patting the bed sheets beside him. “Let me learn a little bit more about how my greatest rival spends his time on earth.”  
Keith rolls his eyes, but can’t hide his smile, and moves to sit next to Lance. They huddle together under the blankets, whispering in the dark.

\---

Keith wakes slowly, his mind hazy. He’s usually quick to wake, jerking up at odd moments throughout the night, but he finds himself unwilling to drag himself from his slumber today. He burrows deeper into the warmth all around him, drinking up that cozy feeling before he hears a quiet grunt above his head.

He freezes, fully awake now, blood turning to ice, reflexively stiffening in defense and then backing up ever so slightly…

Oh. It’s Lance. He remembers with a jolt how they had talked late into the night. Keith must have fallen asleep at some point. And Lance had let him. He stares at Lance, their noses almost touching. He is so sweet in his sleep. Perfectly quiet and still, for once. The Lance Keith knows can never stop moving. And will seize any possible chance he can get to open up his big mouth. Keith doesn’t mind that, at least when it’s not directed at him, but seeing Lance like this, fluffy and vulnerable and relaxed, makes his heart pound a little faster. He’s beautiful. And from this proximity, Keith can only admire him more. The smoothness of his brown skin and the delicate curves of his features are so lovely up close. Keith thinks it a shame that he never got to see him this way before.

Lance sleeps on, then lets out a soft, whistley snore and makes a grab for Keith, pulling him into his chest. Keith’s belly swoops and he feels his heart rate pick up as Lance’s iron grip locks them in a tight embrace, with Keith’s face cuddled against Lance’s chest, their legs entangled. His face is on fire, but Lance is completely unconscious. Surely he would freak out if he awoke and found himself holding Keith like this. But maybe he can enjoy it for a moment longer. He sighs, allowing himself to melt into the embrace, heart still beating rapidly. This closeness prompts something deeper, more wanting, inside of him, and he longs to wrap his arms around Lance and hold him just as tightly, warm and pliant in his grasp.

It’s around this moment that Keith hears a small sound, like a subtle shuffling of feet behind him, and becomes aware that they are not alone. All of a sudden he senses a presence behind him, lurking, watching, and feels the back of his neck prickle with goosebumps. Silently, minutely, he moves his hand to his back pocket under the covers, finding his Marmora blade still there. In seconds, he grabs the blade and whips around, wrenching himself out of Lance’s grip to face their attacker.

It’s Princess Kholeni, silently watching them from the doorway, and Keith sputters in surprise. “What? Your highness! How long were you standing there watching us?” He does his best to keep his tone level but he feels weirdly violated, and fails to control the angry edge in his voice.

He hears Lance getting up beside him and looks back. He has an alarmed, quizzical expression on his face, slightly disoriented after Keith's shouts woke him.

“I have only been here for a few doboshes,” Kholeni says. “Please forgive me, paladins, but I find it very sweet. That you two could not bear to be apart, in your separately assigned rooms.”

Lance stutters, “Uhh, I mean, we - um. It was actually - well - we didn’t like, mean for this to happen, or anything.” He trails off, looking bashful and mildly distressed.

“No matter,” Kholeni says. “If you prefer this arrangement then I will have my servants clear out your room and move you into this one, Paladin Keith.”

Keith hears Lance splutter beside him. “Oh no, your highness that - uh - that won’t be necessary,” Keith says. “I really don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“It is already done,” Kholeni says. “Now get dressed, please. I would love to show you all around before I start preparations for the celebratory feast tonight.”

Keith moves to get up. He shoots Lance an apologetic glance but the other boy just winks, nudging him with his shoulder.

“Alright! Space sleepover.” Lance hops out of bed, then starts to make up the covers, humming a little to himself.

Keith watches him fold back the bedsheets with care, ending his work with a flourish. He looks up and meets Keith’s gaze, shooting him a thumbs up. Lance is still rumpled from sleep, hair sticking up in funny places on his head, smile wide and soft in the morning light. Keith has to catch his breath when he’s hit by a wave of affection, so deep, intense, and cloying he could choke on it.

 _Oh_ , he thinks. Being part Galra may be the least of his problems.

**Author's Note:**

> i hate these little gay bitch boys and how much of my life they've STOLEN from me  
> it's disGUSting frankly


End file.
